


Let's Make The Most of Being Eighteen

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, PWP, Second Generation, first-time, limo sex, reluctant bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two original characters of mine and my friend's- Lazarus Stark, son of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark, and Matthew Coulson, adopted son of Clint Barton and Phil Coulson - get it on in the back of a limo. Lazarus has always wanted to have sex with Matthew, but Matt always said no - until Lazarus turned 18.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Make The Most of Being Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> You probably don't care about my original characters, but to be perfectly honest, the sex is hot. You might want to give it a read <3

Matthew sits completely still but his eyes never stop moving. He examines every inch of the limo's interior, marking potential weak points, exits and where he'll have the best vantage point should a fight break out. He's uncomfortable in the thousand dollar suit his 'employer' forced him to wear and would much prefer to be following behind on his motorcycle in jeans and a tee, quiver strapped to his back and an arrow within reach. But he had been told, in no uncertain terms, that he would be riding in the limo, in a suit, with only a few guns and knives hidden on his body or he would be fired.  
  
So here he is, sitting next to the world's brattiest, smuggest teenage bastard, searching out escape routes.  
  
"There's going to be enough security at this thing without me," he says gruffly, the additional ' _I really don't need to be here let me go home_ ' implied.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Lazarus’ mouth quirks up into that smirk that he knows Matthew fucking loves and fucking hates. “But I want _you_ there. I could loosen that tie for you, you know, if you like.”

 

His hand comes to rest on Matthew’s knee, and oh shit the other man knows exactly what he’s talking about.

 

They’ve been dancing this dance for a little while now.

Well, a couple years.

Well, three.

 

And oh god, Lazarus wants him.

Lazarus Stark, the biggest brat this side of the galaxy, born (somewhat illegitimately) of Tony Stark himself, and his lovely assistant Pepper Potts.

He’s got that pretty red hair, and those pretty green eyes, and that perfect little splash of freckles. But his chin is strong and his nose is sharp and he looks every bit like his father. Including his prominent height deficiency, at only 5’5’’

He’s nowhere near as muscular as Tony, but dammit that doesn’t mean he’s not trying. His arms are thicker than average, and if he clenches really hard, you an almost see the outline of abs, in the right light. He’s got a fast metabolism, thank you very much.

 

Not like Matthew. He’s almost six foot five of ropey muscle. He’s been compared to Slender Man once too often for his liking, and really, Lazarus can see how people would think that. He’s got a neck that’s probably a little bit too long, and his shoulders are too narrow for the height of his frame, and his arms are somewhat akin to Lincoln Logs, and his legs are too long for his body.

But those people obviously never saw him with his _clothes_ off.

 

He might look like he weighs only 120 pounds, but _goddamn_ is that man compact.

He’s hard, sinewy muscle under those tees and jeans that he has to wear a belt for because his hips are too narrow for men’s jeans and dammit he’s just not resorting to wearing women’s jeans.

 

His feet are a little bit too big too but that’s okay because the giant clunky boots with all those unnecessary, functionless buckles and zippers are pretty fucking hot.

 

Matthew Coulson, child of Clint and Uncle Agent. When they adopted him as a chubby, wide-eyed little thing, they never expected him to grow to six foot by the time he was seventeen, towering over both his parents. He never did cut his hair, despite the fact that both of his parents encouraged him to have it short military-style like the both of them. He says he’s happy with his blonde hair in a ponytail. And, really, it was his choice. They gave up by the time he was thirteen.

 

And Lazarus thinks he’s all the better for it. He couldn’t bear to imagine Matthew without that perfect, long blonde hair. Right now it’s in a tight little bun at the base of his neck and oh god he just wants to twiddle his fingers around it.

 

Yes, they’ve been dancing this dance ever since Lazarus decided he wanted Matthew as his personal body guard, and oh Tony thought that was the perfect idea! Trained by Hawkeye _and_ Coulson since he could walk, Matthew was a veritable arsenal of a man.

 

And once Lazarus had the taller man in his clutches, he never let him go. Four years his junior, and he always made it apparent that he _owned_ Matthew now that he was working for him.

He first made that clear the day he ordered Matthew to go down on his knees and suck him off. He’d sort of meant it, but more of a joke. But when Matthew didn’t argue, and followed his orders wordlessly, Lazarus decided they could really enjoy this game.

 

What frustrated him, however, was the fact that Matthew refused to have sex with him. He would blow him, he would let Lazarus blow him in return, they could fondle eachothers cocks as much as they liked, but _no penetration_ , he was very clear on that point.

 

But now, in a closed-off limo, with a forty-minute ride to the destination of Lazarus’ _eighteenth birthday party_ …

This couldn’t possibly be better.

 

He slides his hand up Matthew’s leg just a couple inches, and he smirks broader when he feels those muscles tense.

 

Matthew arches an eyebrow and wishes for his favorite mirrored shade to give the expression that added air of disdainful amusement. Instead he knows he just looks annoyed which works fine too because what Lazarus is doing is beyond stupid. One, they aren't alone. The privacy screen might be raised but that doesn't mean the driver doesn't exist. Two, this limo is Tony's and is probably bugged. Three, Matthew is four years his senior and honestly, who does this kid think he is? And last but not least they're on their way to a very large, very public party where Lazarus is going to be the center of attention. He can't go in looking debauched, followed by his trusted bodyguard.  
  
But damn does he want to.  
  
He's been attracted to Lazarus for a while, there's no use denying it. His whole life had revolved around the kid since he was 13. He never had time to consider anyone else and by the time he had even gotten around to considering sex Lazarus was sixteen and far too attractive for his own good. And then Lazarus had ordered him to drop to his knees and well, inexperienced as he was he wasn't going to let that opportunity pass him by.  
  
Since then it’s been all heavy petting and Matthew is fine with that. He knew Lazarus had plenty of other lovers and he was perfectly content with what he got. Can't miss what you never had right?  
  
And if a few of those lovers were struck by random flying objects when leaving the mansion well, no one could prove it was his fault.  
  
It's not that he hasn't wanted to go farther, he has, but there's always been the age issue. When they started this he was twenty and Lazarus was sixteen. And while a lot of what Matthew did was only pseudo-legal he did not want to go to jail for screwing a minor.  
  
But today is Lazarus' eighteenth birthday which means there's no need to wait anymore and Matthew is more than happy to kick things up a notch.  
  
Just not now.  
  
"I can loosen my own tie." he replies, pinching Lazarus hand to make him move it.

 

Lazarus’ ignores the pinch, voting instead to slide his hand up higher, and boldy cup his hand full around the older man’s package.

 

“Yeah, but it’d be better if _I_ did it, don’t you agree?” he murmurs, already moving in to kiss that little spot behind Matthew’s left ear that always leaves him a little bit gooey.

 

Biting back a moan Matthew shifts purposefully away from the younger man. He's already starting to get hard and that is _really_ not what he wants. Especially in this suit where it’s not easy to hide much of anything.  
  
"I think your mother will have your head if you wrinkle that suit." he responds.

 

“Then I’ll take it off first.” Lazarus responds darkly, and already he’s sitting back and sliding that dark red tie apart in such a way that he’s _almost_ exposing his collarbone to the older man.

 

"Lazarus don't." Matthew orders. His voice is low and menacing and his eyes are blazing as they track the movements of his target's hands, cataloging each centimeter of exposed skin.

 

The tie is apart now, and Lazarus’ green eyes are boring right into Matthew’s blue hues. They’re looking down at his hands intently as he purposefully picks apart the third button of his shirt, but he’s still looking at his eyes just in case those icy orbs decide to flicker upwards.

 

Now he’s shrugging his suit coat off his shoulders and tossing it onto the cushioned bench across from them, and his chest sticks out just so as he does this, the cloth pulling tight across his hardened nipples.

 

Matthew can't help being a little mesmerized. He's never seen this much of Lazarus' skin in a sexual context before. At least, not skin on his upper half. They've never gotten to a state of total undress before. Usually the most anyone removes is their pants and even then they often end up around their knees.  
  
The urge to lean forward and taste that soft pale skin is almost overwhelming but he can't. He holds himself back, using all his training to reign in his desires.  
  
"Even you should be able to recognize this as a bad idea." he warns calmly.

 

“I’m sort of like the King of bad ideas,” Lazarus’ smirk is dangerous now as he pops the button on his trousers nice and slow.

 

"Luckily for us I'm fairly level headed." which is only half true. Matthew had learned the value of compartmentalizing and recognizing a bad situation from his fathers early on but he still had a willful streak, much like Clint Barton himself. It was this willful streak that often found him in the air ducts and crawl spaces, setting up various pranks to play on his teammates.  
  
Or now, actually contemplating having sex in a limo with the kid who was technically his boss.  
  
Threat identified: Lazarus Stark.  
  
Possible complications if engaged: Loss of respect, privacy and disapproval from various parties.  
  
Exit strategy: None in place.  
  
Well damn.

 

And with almost no plan of action, Matthew finds himself shocked pretty still when that beautiful ginger plants himself firmly on his lap, trousers tossed aside and shirt well on its way to being completely unbuttoned by nimble fingers. Tie draped over his shoulder and grin spread viciously across full lips, Lazarus began to roll his hips forward in the sort of circles that should only be performed by exotic dancers.

 

Matthew's large hands instantly latch onto Lazarus hips to keep him close. He's already hard and part of him hates Lazarus a little for being able to do this to him so easily. The rest of him just wants as much of that beautiful body as he can reach and then some.  
  
"You're making a mistake." he growls, his hands tightening enough to leave faint marks on the milky white flesh beneath them.

 

Lazarus tips his head back with a delighted hum, the flesh on his neck taught as he displays it to the older man.

 

“Mm, no I’m not,” he murmured, sliding his tongue over his lower lip and giving his hips another sinful roll. He plucks the last button apart and slides the rift in the shirt wider, spreading it to either side of his bare chest.

 

Matthew growls again and jerks Lazarus forward so he can bite down on his neck, just below the the shirt's collar. The bite is hard and demanding and rougher than Matthew would normally allow himself to be with Lazarus but damn does this kid deserve it. If he wants to take this all the way right now then fine, he's not going to back down, but they had both understand exactly what they're getting into.

 

Lazarus has to bite down on his lip a little too hard to stifle his groan. He barely manages to reach over and flick the switch on the built-in juke box. Some old rock song comes on nice and loud, and he knows the driver is rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t care because now he can moan as Matthew’s bites turn into nibbles turn into sucks.

 

He closes the gap between their bodies, all too delighted because he knows Matthew is uncomfortable in a suit at the best of times, and now it’s all tight and itchy and warm in all the wrong places. He presses his form full against the taller man and turns to blow hot breath over his neck, closing his scalding lips over the blonde’s ear.

 

Matthew makes an appreciative little noise and tilts his head a little to give Lazarus more access. He likes this, he decides. It's more than they ever had before when everything was hard and fast, no room for teasing or foreplay is now all building up to something bigger and he likes the anticipation. He likes taking the time to really feel.  
  
Speaking of which, there's a certain part of Lazarus' anatomay that he's always appreciated from afar that he would really like to get better acquainted with now. Still enjoying the feel of Lazarus' mouth on his ear and neck his hands slide back to grasp the younger man's ass.

 

Lazarus suddenly throws his head back with a loud moan, and if the song hadn’t been playing, there definitely would have been cause for suspicion. When all that was covering his rear was a thin film of cotton boxers, the feeling of Matthew’s large fingers spanning the entirety of his ass made him dizzy.

 

Matthew, on the other hand, was a little surprised. Pleasantly so, he decided. While he’d been expecting something firm to hold, he was instead met with flesh that more closely resembled warm dough. His fingers sank into the rather plush bottom, and there was more than enough substance to give ample squeezes.

 

Lazarus had laid his head down on Matthew’s shoulder at this point, because he’d become so interested in the younger’s ass that he was kneading it like he was trying to make goddamn bread. He was moaning directly into Matthew’s ear now, his fingers tightened around his slim shoulders, and shivering like a wet kitten.

 

He’d never been so fully, utterly, disgustingly _groped_ before.

 

Matthew smirks and pulls away but long enough to slide his hands up Lazarus' boxers so he can feel the the warm flesh without anything getting in the way. This is even better because now he can feel how soft and supple Lazarus' skin is compared to his own dry, calloused hands. He feels the genius shudder against him and it feels so right.  
  
"I've wanted you for so long." he hisses in Lazarus' ear. He uses his grip on the other man's ass to jerk him forward so their groins grind against each other and he knows Lazarus can feel how hard he is and he is pleased to feel and that the younger man is just as hard.

 

Lazarus puts his palms on the wall of the limo and pushes up so he can look Matthew in the eye.

 

“Oh, fuck, I know,” he smirks, diving in to give the older man a breathtaking kiss. He grinds his cock against Matthew’s again as he kisses him, his fingers coming to pluck apart his bun so he can tug sharply on his long, perfect hair.

 

Hands full of blonde strands, he yanks until Matthew’s neck is exposed, at which point he eats every square inch with butterfly-light kisses, sharp nips and long, hard strokes with his tongue.

 

Matthew happily lets Lazarus tug his head however he wants, giving him all the access he needs to his neck. He doesn't even care if there are marks later or if his shirt gets a little rumpled. There are teeth on his neck and a lovely ass in his hands, with his fingers inching closer and closer to that all too tempting crease.

 

As soon as one finger delved into the cleft of Lazarus’ ass, something seemed to snap. The ginger jolted forward so quickly that Matthew’s hands left the flesh entirely, and the breath was nearly knocked out of him.

 

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa_ , hold it,” Lazarus said, his eyes narrowed and his hands still pulling tight on Matthew’s hair. “Watch out where your fingers are headed, buddy, you’re not in charge of this game.”

 

Yeah, he’d been wanting Matthew for a really long time, but he wasn’t going to _bottom_ to him!

 

Matthew laughs, actually laughs, and he releases Lazarus' ass. He pulls his hands out of the thin cotton boxers only to wrap his arms around Lazarus' thin waist. In one swift move he lifts the other man off him and tosses him onto his back on the seat. Before Lazarus can sit up he's on top of him, his muscular form exuding a carefully controlled power as he pins him with one hand.  
  
"You really think I'm going to lie back and take it from _you_ little boy?" he sneers.

 

A flutter of heat unfurls in Lazarus’ body. The way Matthew’s eyes are shining beautiful and malicious, his sneer is downright lecherous, and his hair is a mess crowning his long, thin face, he looks like some incubus straight out of myth.

 

The younger man squirmed pitifully on the plush couch-like interior, his face turning a bright shade of red.

 

“I don’t think you’ve ever used your dick in your life,” Lazarus said, and dammit he didn’t mean for it to sound like a challenge. “I actually _know how_ to top.”

 

Matthew's smile turns blatantly predatory. He keeps Lazarus pinned as he shimmies down the man's body and bites at his soft belly, making the other man jump.  
  
"I think I can figure it out." he says, pausing to meet Lazarus' eyes. "But before we do this you need to understand something. I don't share."

 

Lazarus’s chest is heaving now, and he closes his eyes tightly. That sentence implies so many things…

 

He would have to give up women for this!

Then again, women were… kind of a pain. Pregnancy, wanting phone numbers, desire to hook up again after the fact…

 

But seriously, no more pussy?

Then again, he would have Matthew… the man he’s been fantasizing about since he was fourteen…

 

Was it worth it?

 

And then Matthew’s mouth closed over the head of his cock through his boxers and with a wail that should never come out of the mouth of a man, he decided that fuck yes this was worth it. He squirmed like an octopus out of water, his hips jerking upwards.

 

He’s only ever been blown once by another person other than Matthew, and at the time, she’d also had gum in her mouth. The dumb girl got it in his pubes and he actually had to _shave them off_ to get it out. Luckily for him that was almost six months ago, and they’d grown back since then, dark and auburn.

Matthew, though… he always seemed to know what he was doing.

 

Matthew mouths the length of his cock through the cotton boxers, alternating between kissing and sucking until the fabric is so wet it's practically translucent. He pulls the fabric down just enough so Lazarus cock springs free and instantly sucks as much down his throat as he can.

 

Lazarus’ hand claps over his mouth quickly to avoid screeching as his hips jolt up, and already he’s close to release and he’s almost crying.

 

This isn’t the first time this has happened, he doesn’t know why he’s acting like such a weepy virgin now. His legs feel like jelly and his throat is tight as he pants like a dog as he rolls his hips up past those thin lips, which are already swollen from friction.

 

His mind feels like it’s shattering apart under the heat, and that _tongue_ is working into all the right crevasses.

 

Matthew pulls up and catches Lazarus' gaze. Their eyes stay locked as Matthew lifts his own fingers to his mouth and carefully wets them, licking and sucking on his forefinger. Once he's satisfied he adds another, never looking away from the young man squirming beneath him. He smirks around his fingers and pulls them out with a wet 'pop'.

 

Lazarus’ heart is beating faster now, and he closes his legs instinctively.

 

“Come on, you aren’t serious,” he whined, feeling his muscles in that region all clench up at the thought. Matthew doesn’t have the largest of penises, at around six and a half inches, but his girth is more than enough to be impressed (and maybe a little scared?) about.

 

"I'm always serious." Matthew replies which isn't always true but in this context that doesn't really matter. "Don't worry, I promise I'll make it good for you."  
  
He nudges Lazarus' legs apart and takes him into his mouth once again. He doesn't touch him any more than that for a minute. He does wicked things with his tongue and his teeth that he knows will drive Lazarus crazy until he can feel the body beneath him starting to relax and he hears him groan and lean back. Only then does he let his spit slick fingers venture forward and begin gently rubbing the other man's perineum.

 

The heat in Lazarus’ belly intensifies as there’s pressure added to a place he’s never put much thought into. His moans turn into a steady, breathless beat of “ _oh, oh, oh, oh,_ ” in time to every push of Matthew’s fingers against that little patch of flesh.

 

It feels like… something he can’t quiet describe. Like lightning, but not as painful. Like a rush of adrenaline, but not as frightening. It’s hot, really hot, and it sort of feels like that sensation he gets when Matthew presses that first wet kiss to the head of his penis. It’s like a shock wave, like a ripple effect, like it’s blooming out from that spot between his asshole and his balls. It tingles, all the way up to his chest, and the goosebumps travel farther still than that – he didn’t know you could get goose bumps behind your ears.

 

His feet are numb, his toes are curled white, his chest is juddering, and his whole world has become nothing more than that sweet pressure, that blissful sensation.

 

It’s a little embarrassing, but… maybe bottoming won’t be so bad.

Hell, he even once – to his eternal horror – walked in on his mother pegging the mary hell out of his father with a dildo that was a frightening shade of pink. It took a lot of alcohol snuck from the bar in the penthouse to pretend it was nothing but a terrible dream.

 

If his father could handle it – with all his pride and stuck-uppery – then he probably could too.

Besides, it’s not like this is the last time they’re going to have sex. He’ll get his turn.

 

Matthew can hear Lazarus moaning, close to begging, and the sound goes straight to his cock. He's achingly hard and wants nothing more than to take himself in hand but he knows if he did that would bring this all to a screeching halt and that's the last thing he wants. Not now, not when he's waited so long and he's finally got what he wants laid out in front of him.  
  
He waits until Lazarus is as relaxed as possible before his fingers slip farther back to rub against his hole. He massages gently, working in small circles to get him to relax enough to let his finger slip inside.

 

Lazarus makes a face and his eyes open, his nose wrinkling as his hips jerk uncomfortably. Matthew’s fingers were a little bit cold already, but the contrast to the heat of his insides was startling and almost painful.

 

“Ah, shit,” he groaned, trying to keep the look of disgust from his face. He really thought this would be going a different way here, and he’s still not totally used to the thought of letting Matthew’s penis inside him. “You sure about this man?” he asks, and Matthew can see the fright and uncertainty on his face.

 

The older man raises an eyebrow and pulls his mouth off Lazarus' cock to look him in the eyes. He doesn't want to stop but if Lazarus really isn't comfortable then he isn't going to push. But if they stop now that might just be it for them.  
  
"If you don't want to do this then say so." Matthew says carefully, not wanting to sound too disappointed.

 

“I’m just…” Lazarus dropped his head back on the seat. “I’m scared, I guess. I really don’t want it to hurt.” _And I don’t think I could handle the blow to my pride if it hurts so much I need it to stop…_ he doesn’t speak out loud at this point, he doesn’t want to verbalize his insecurities.

 

Matthew wishes he could hold him and kiss him and reassure him that it will be alright but that's not an option. They aren't anywhere close to that in their relationship. Other than just a few minutes ago, they've only kissed once and that was because of a dare at a party when he was seventeen and Lazarus was thirteen. Even then it had been impersonal and Lazarus had pulled away almost immediately.  
  
So he settles for using his free hand to gently rub Lazarus thigh. "I won't hurt you. You won't even need to say anything. If I think I'm hurting you I'll stop."

 

Lazarus still looks uncertain as he lifts his head up to look at him again. They’re running low on time now, and if he wants this to happen…

He’s not sure.

 

Matthew looks over the younger’s face.

He knows him. He knows what he needs.

 

“If you don’t think you can handle it, let’s just hang up the towel.”

 

Lazarus feels a familiar stroke of heat. Not arousal, but a fire to prove him the hell wrong. He knows Matthew’s making it a challenge so he won’t feel bad about accepting. Because now, it’s about pride.

 

“Bring it on, Sucker Punch.” He sneers, the smirk back on his lips, and the fright in his eyes replaced with defiance.

 

Matthew ducks his head to hide a grin and eagerly goes back to his work. His first finger slips past the tight ring of muscle up to the first knuckle and he stops there. He starts moving it in small circles, getting the muscle to give little by little. He keeps an eye on Lazarus' face and listens close to the sounds he's making, going slow to keep from hurting him. Eventually he opens up enough for Matthew to slip the rest of his finger inside and he starts sliding it in and out of the younger man's body.

 

Lazarus is a little put off by the sensation at first. He tries to keep an open mind, and it’s really nice that it’s balanced with the occasional licks and nips to his weeping cock. His body is somewhere in between rejecting the foreign sensation, and really fucking curious about it. The ring of muscle is pulsing like a heartbeat now, alternating between squeezing really tight around the digit, and softening up like butter.

 

Matthew’s finger is heating up now, and it’s not _so_ bad, but it still sort of feels like he needs to poop. Is that always what it’s like, he wonders mildly, bucking into another sloppy kiss to the head of his penis.

 

Smirking to himself Matthew keeps going, working his finger in as deep as he can. Lazarus' walls are rippling around him and his body seems caught in a state of confusion and Matthew loves it. He's sure Lazarus is going to enjoy it eventually. He's watched enough porn and touched himself enough to know that. It's all a question of getting it just right.  
  
Lazarus is loose enough now that Matthew pulls out and pushes back in with two fingers.

 

The ginger grunts loudly now, throwing his head back, and fuck there’s definitely sweat on his body now.

There’s the first real stretch, and he’s not sure why he loves it. It’s so totally out of his control, and yeah it hurts a little, but the way Matthew is rubbing his fingers inside makes it sort of okay. It’s thrilling, really, feeling those digits push inside him, that he has no control over.

 

Exhilarating. It’s got him thrumming, and he wonders if he’s getting an adrenaline high from the improbability of the situation. He can’t prepare himself mentally or physically for any single crook of Matthew’s fingers. Those goddamn fingers, practiced in bow-and-arrow, staff-fighting, knife-throwing and all those other things that makes his fingers mind-blowingly nimble.

 

Lazarus is keening now, his back arched as those fingers slip all the way in, to the final knuckle, and _spread_.

 

This is easy, Matthew thinks. Spreading and loosening the muscle. It's not that different from when he helps Lazarus stretch before a workout. Like all muscles it needs to be warmed up and relaxed before any kind of vigorous exercise.  It's just a matter of patience and finding the right way to pull or push.  
  
He builds a pattern, in, out, in, out, spread, repeat. It’s simple but effective. Lazarus is opening up under his attentions and he's _moaning_.His body is growing accustomed to the intrusion and Matthew can tell he's starting to love it. All he needs is that final push and he'll be completely hooked.

 

The older man thinks he’s just going to die when Lazarus’ foot comes to rest on his bent knee, so he can push his hips forward into those fingers.

 

Lazarus is a little embarrassed that he’s thrusting back onto the blonde’s fingers, but the way they’re pushing up inside him is filling him with sensations he really wants to explore. It’s raw, and he’s terrified and excited. He can feel those fingertips pressing deeper inside him, against the walls of his insides, he can feel them in his belly. How long are those damn fingers anyway?

 

He’s losing it fast, and he doesn’t even realize how close he is to coming until a small jet prematurely speckled his belly.

 

Matthew is on it instantly, licking Lazarus' belly clean as he adds a third finger. Lazarus clenches for a minute and Matthew stills, watching him carefully. He doesn't seem to be in pain, just a surprised and Matthew stays still, giving him time to adjust. Lazarus is breathing heavily and it takes him almost a minute to completely relax.  
  
When he does Matthew starts again, his fingers sliding in and out of the stretched hole, spreading now and then to loosen him more. He's so hot now and he can no longer resist the urge to open his pants and pull himself out, stroking from base to tip to spread the moisture that has gathered.  
  
"Do you think you're almost ready?" he asks, his fingers pushing and curling upwards.

 

Lazarus whines as he looks at Matthew’s cock, all heavy and red, and it seems even bigger than it’s ever looked before because now he knows he’s got to fit all of that _inside_ him.

 

“Nh, I dunno,” he mutters, but he can’t tear his eyes away. “That shit’s thick, man… like… what, how big around?”

 

“Three and a half inches.”

 

Lazarus can feel his heart racing. “Shit,” he repeats.

 

Matthew smiles. He's always been perfectly happy with his size but hearing it from Lazarus' lips, the man who prides himself on having pleasured fifty women (Matthew knows the real number is closer to half dozen but those girls had been pretty satisfied) is certainly a compliment.  
  
He continues to stroke himself as he twists his hand, his fingers turning and pressing into Lazarus at an all new angle that has the man suddenly bucking and writhing like he can't get enough.

 

Target: Lazarus’ prostate.

 

Target acquired.

 

If there was doubt in Lazarus’ mind, it’s gone now. He’s bucking down onto those fingers like he’s been doing it all his life, moaning so loudly the music almost doesn’t drown him out.

 

His hands fly up over his head to grasp desperately at the edge of the seat, his body elongates, and his feet plant firmly (one on the seat and one on the floor) for extra leverage so he can thrust himself down.

 

He doesn’t know what’s happening, all he knows is that it’s exactly like the pleasure from before, when Matthew was pressing against that funny little patch of skin, only it’s a hundred, a thousand times better.

 

It feels like everything below his belly button is curling out and liquefying, heat rolling through him in steady pulses as he turns his face to bury it in his upper arm. His eyes are closed, his mouth his open, and he’s panting like he’s in heat.

 

Matthew presses against that spot a few more times, just to watch Lazarus fall apart. It's absolutely beautiful, the way his eyes close and his back arches and his arms and legs go taut. His cock twitches and leaks onto his lower belly and Matthew licks it off then leans back to watch goosebumps erupt on all over Lazarus' sweaty skin.  
  
He slowly pulls his fingers free and wraps his arms about the smaller man, pulling him close against his chest and lifting him up. With some quick maneuvering he is now on his back with Lazarus above him, straddling is hips, entrance just inches away from Matthew's cock.  
  
"You're on top now." Matthew teases. "Just like you wanted."

 

“You’re a dick,” Lazarus sneers, but it’s weak, and he’s still reeling from the pleasure tingling in his lower half. The limo ride has been mostly smooth, but he nearly topples forward when it comes to a sudden halt.

 

His heart begins to pound in his chest – they can’t be there already! It hasn’t been that much time.

 

And then they hear the driver shout over the music – “Just ten more minutes!”

 

Another challenge. _Perfect_.

 

Lazarus seizes hold of Matthew’s cock and presses the head against his wet, softened entrance, and with a look of bold determination, begins to sink himself over the flesh.

 

Matthew has to bite his lip to keep from groaning. The hot, soft tissue inside Lazarus was nice around his fingers but it's like heaven now, surrounding his cock. The heat and the pressure are almost too much to bear and then with the addition of the friction that he had craved push him closer to the edge than he would have thought possible in only a few seconds.  
  
"Don't push yourself." he says, as much for Lazarus' benefit as his own. "Take it slow if you have to."

 

“We don’t have time to take it slow,” Lazarus hisses, and it’s his own pride now that’s pushing his hips down. He feels like he’s about to break apart underneath the splitting pressure, and he’s wriggling his hips to find that spot again that Matthew seemed to know would drive him up a wall.

 

With one hand he takes hold of the coat-rack handle thing that extended from the ceiling, and he used it to drag himself ever so slightly upwards, his cock aching and his backside heating up warmer and warmer by the second under the friction.

 

"Fuck." Mathew gasps. His hands find Lazarus' hips to help guide him up and back down and god is it hot. Lazarus' body quivers every time he lifts himself off Matthew's cock and shudders every time he sinks back down. It's gorgeous to watch and almost as arousing as the feeling of their flesh merging and that tight ring of muscle squeezing him and dragging against him.

 

It’s really heating up now, and Lazarus wonders for a moment if a fog of sex is going to come clouding out of the limo when the door is open. But his thoughts are scattered under a vicious wave of pleasure that courses up from that spot again, it was hit _just fucking right_.

 

Lazarus throws his head back with something almost like a scream, and his hips come to a complete halt. He’s embarrassed, and his hand flies to his cock to squeeze tight and keep the orgasm at bay that nearly splattered right out of him.

 

“Ohhh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he curses, his voice a meager little whine, “Shit, I almost came, oh fuck,”

 

Below him Matthew smirks. That's exactly what he wanted and if he's so close already he isn't going to give up now. For the first time he might be able to hold out long enough to make Lazarus come first, though it'll be close. He's already so close to the edge himself. But the possibility of making Lazarus lose it first is too good to pass up.  
  
His grip on Lazarus' hips tightens, holding him still as Matthew bucks up, thrusting into him for the first time and damn does it feel good.

 

Lazarus throws his head back with a wild sort of moan, and his grip tightens over his cock as another wet wave of heat barrels through him. He shudders through it, grinding back down to meet another thrust, and the two of them moan in unison.

 

Lazarus thinks that maybe bottoming isn’t such a bad thing after all. In fact, he might elect to do it more than once.

 

“Shit, shit, I don’t wanna come so early,” he moans as he’s thrust up into again, the tails of his tie bouncing on his stomach. “And you’re still wearing the full suit, you ass, it’ll get all over you – _oh fuck_ ,”

 

Matthew thrusts up again making Lazarus groan and tip forward. Matthew takes advantage of the small movement by grabbing Lazarus' tie and pulling him forward to whisper in his ear.  
  
"You better not make a mess." he says. "You wouldn't want anyone finding out about this, would you?"

 

Now that Lazarus is down, he’s having a hard time getting back up again. He lays his head across Matthew’s shoulder, reaches up to tangle both hands deep in his hair, and moans nice and deliberately ever time the older man thrusts into him.

 

He never expected this sort of bliss. He knows what it feels like to top, and damn is it good, but the sensation has always been pretty limited to his cock, and the immediate area.

 

With this, there was a spine-chilling sort of pleasure bolting through him, all the way up to his ears, and leaving everything below the knees vaguely jellylike.

He moaned aloud, and he couldn’t help but visualize some sort of golden wave rippling through his body, because Christ that’s what it felt like.

 

"Are you close? Are you going to come with my cock inside you?" Matthew pants into Lazarus' ear. God knows he is. He won't be able to hold back for much longer but god does he want to make Lazarus' be the first. He's determined to make him fall apart no matter what it takes.

 

“You ass, I was close from the beginning, _oh god_ ,” he whines, his fingers tightening in Matthew’s hair. “ _Harder_ , god dammit, _harder_.”

 

Matthew obliges happily. At hose words he gives up his last pretense of control. He lets go of Lazarus' tie to hold his hips again, only now he's guiding him up and slamming him down in time with his thrusts. Thrusts that have gone from slow and gentle to rough and fast and hard. Again and again he sheathes himself in Lazarus' body and each time is better than the last.

 

Lazarus has turned into a puddle in the older man’s hands, and all he can to his hold on tight and enjoy the ride. There’s no time to breathe between thrusts, and he’s caterwauling like a drowning cat at this point, His eyes are shut tight, and he’s watching patterns of stars explode beneath his eyelids.

 

“ _God, yes, yes, yes, yes,_ ” he pants, his muscles pulsating around the shaft that’s burrowing into him at a punishing pace. “ _Yes, yes, yes!_ ”

 

Suddenly he’s all fire again, and he’s _so fucking close_. He pushes upright again, takes hold of the ceiling-handle, plants one foot firmly on the floor and begins to ride Matthew with all the strength he possesses.

 

Matthew groans and throws his head back. He arches up off the seat cushions as much as he can, trying to maintain contact now that he isn't completely in control. He can feel the slick heat of Lazarus' inner walls sliding around him every time they come together again and it's more than he had ever imagined.  
  
He's right on the edge now and the desperation to get there is burning through him like a wild fire, hot and fast and uncontrolled. He releases Lazarus' hips with one hand and wraps his fingers around his lover's cock, pumping him in time with their combined thrusts.

 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” Lazarus chants, and he’s so opened up now that he can’t even think how to breathe.

 

And then just like that, he tumbles over the edge with a scream of raw bliss, matched by the scream in whatever unidentifiable metal song is drumming in the background.

 

And he’s glad Matthew had the sense to close his fingers over the head of his cock to keep his jets of come from staining his suit, because all he’s capable of doing at this point is jerking his hips feebly underneath the crashing waves of his orgasm.

 

Those hot walls tighten around Matthew's dick and he has only enough time to move his hand to the side where he can be sure his suit is out of danger before he's toppling over the edge right after Lazarus. He's had orgasms before but they've never been as intense as this. This is a hole new level of pleasure that he's never experienced before. His entire body seizes up as he jerks his hips in sporadic bursts, filling Lazarus with his come and he feels like he feels like his entire body is turning to jello.

 

Every muscle in Lazarus’ body seizes up, and then loosens at once, and he collapses forward onto Matthew’s body, boneless. His breathing is uneven, and every few seconds, his body jerks like he’s having some kind of sexually-charged seizure.

 

“ _Ohh my god._ ” His words are a breathless moan.

 

Matthew nods, conserving as much energy as he can to get his body back online. He's always had a fast recovery time but he's never felt so utterly wrecked as this. He can barely move other than to lift his arms and stroke Lazarus' soft ginger hair. It's a small intimacy but it's as much as Lazarus will allow.  
  
"I...um...I'm sorry. I should have asked before I..." he blushes and hopes Lazarus won't look up to see it. There's no graceful way to apologize for coming inside someone with asking first, even if he is 100% totally clean.

 

“Unh,” Lazarus grunts, and he’s a little bit bothered, but not nearly enough to move.

 

“Five minutes!” the driver calls over the music, and Lazarus laughs.

 

“Holy shit, we lasted five whole minutes after that?” he says, and pushes off the seat to see Matthew holding his come-splattered hand rather awkwardly to one side. “Lemme get that,” Lazarus made a face as he pulled off of the older man’s cock in order to grab a hot steamed towel from a canister. He wiped the damp cloth over Matthew’s hand before tossing it in the laundry and fetching a new one to wipe himself at least mostly clean. He knows there’s some all the way up in there, and his immature mind can’t help but wonder if it’s going to come out next time he poops.

 

He began to get dressed, and couldn’t help but stare as Matthew tucked his cock back into that suit that he really hated, and started to comb his fingers through his hair without a brush or a mirror to fix it with.

 

Buttoning his trousers, Lazarus gives a tender sort of laugh, and holy shit he can’t believe he really just had sex with this guy. It’s so surreal. Tucking his shirt into his trousers, he moves to kneel on the limo floor in front of Matthew so he can help him fix his hair.

 

Rolling his eyes Matthew gives up and leaves his hair in Lazarus' capable hands. The man knows what looks good and he would never let himself be seen walking into a party with someone who looked less than spectacular, even if they are only his body guard.  
  
He leans forward a little so Lazarus can better reach the tangles at the back of his head, which he's sure is a complete disaster after rubbing and sliding around on the cushion. Their faces are closer together now and Matthew is catch's Lazarus' eye, wondering if they're both feeling this awkward.

 

They look at each other for a tense moment, jut as Lazarus tightens the bun at the base of Matthew’s neck. His throat feels dry as crystal blue hues meet mossy green, and he thinks Matthew’s holding his breath because he’s certainly close enough to feel his breath over his face.

 

And then he makes a decision, because dammit he doesn’t want regrets.

 

He closes his eyes and presses forward, and his full lips press against Matthew’s in a juvenile sort of kiss, not like the passionate two-second snog they’d shared before. He holds it there, and it’s not deep or sensual or anything other than a gentle pressing of two people’s lips together.

 

And then he pulls back and looks at Matthew again with a small smile. _I had sex with this guy_ , he thinks to himself, and he can still hardly believe it.

 

Matthew offers him a smile of his own and tentatively raises a hand to touch Lazarus' cheek. Almost immediately he lets it drop and hastily fixes his tie, once again wishing desperately for his mirrored sunglasses to place some sort of buffer between them.  As it is he can feel Lazarus' eyes boring into him and he knows he can read exactly what he's thinking and knew how much he had enjoyed that brief kiss.  
  
They’re quiet for the last two minutes before the limo pulls up in front of the party. Looking outside Matthew can already see the hoards of women lined up, hoping for their chance with the heir to the Stark fortune and it makes his stomach clench. Just before the door opens he grabs Lazarus' wrist and pulls him close.  
  
"You remember what I said right?" he asks.

 

“I think I remember,” Lazarus smirks, and he opens the door and steps out, throwing out his arms to a million camera flashes. He winks at a few girls, and invites one to stand on either side of him with his arms around their waists, and looks over his shoulder at Matthew to give him a shit-eating grin.

 

He knows he’s going to get it for this later, he might get tied to the headboard of his bed, get sucked off right to the point of orgasm, get his face smashed into a pillow while Matthew drives punishingly into him. He’s already tingling thinking about it, and he knows Matthew’s already plotting, with that look on his face.

 

He’ll give ladies _just_ enough attention to make Matthew burn with jealousy.

 

Tonight is going to be a good night.

 

 


End file.
